Blade: Hellbound
by Headhunter2k6
Summary: He's battled their Gods, faught their demons, and has met their maker. Now, he must face their Master... Phenom, the Devil himself. Please read and review as I'm open to suggestions, new ch 2 added, all other chs have been moved up one ch.
1. Fallen Angel, the

**Title: Blade: Hellbound  
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**Written by: Seph2k2**

**Author Notes: The Doomsday Saga final version. This is another version of if featuring Blade and only Blade for those of you who were disappointed (as well as a new sidekick duo of mine, which are only used for part of the story).**

**Chapter summary: A trio of Russian vampire supremacists, called the Death Trio, obtain an ancient artifact which can open the floodgates to the ancient underground Temple of Doom, and unleash the ultimate evil which lay bundled up inside of it...**

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Chapter 1: Speak of the Devil**

It was the year 2052, the age where Mankind was befaced by a hero, a hero unlike any other. The age where one man, one mission, one soul.. made all the difference, one man... who made amends meet, one man... who rid the world of it's darkest and most sensational fear as, they who torture the minds of the innocent, preying on their fear, and making their worst nightmares a reality, one at a time, at a time which the Dead feast on the minds and souls of the living, that is, until they met their maker, and all Evil would disintegrate into nothing more than a thing of the past... an Evil past. The Daywalker, Eric Brooks, AKA "Blade." He's fought their Gods, battled their demons, and now he's met their maker. He's done it all...

But now, he must do it... all over again. Now, he must face their Master. He must unleash Hell... if he is to survive it.

It had been a long summer day. A sunswept evening sky lurked high above the long set boundaries of Los Angeles. Millions of cars in the form of a mere colored tint of red and orange could be seen roaming through the busy streets of LA from a view. It was clear that the city was looming with activity in and out. Nothing became of it but a metropolitan crash site, which sparked the controversy of whether or not something dangerous lurked somewhere deep inside of it...

...or out.

* * *

From somewhere very far out, there lurked a sedated valley, of anything but minds and spirits of the dead, as well as a select few others stepping through it's barren presence, Pavel, Alexei, and Sergei, three Russian vampire familiars. Nothing composed of it but a road and an empty field of soil surrounding it from both sides. One managed to carry the ancient artifact in his hands, Pavel, the Key to Hell's Graveyard—an ancient key with a jewel of a demon seal attached onto the far end of it—just as they began their conversation. 

"Pavel!" Alexei called out. "why have you the Key?"

"Because his spirit rests with mine," Pavel replied. "His merciless will can carry us to salvation."

"Impurity is out of the question!" Sergei exclaimed. "There is but one ghost, one shadow, one soul. That ghost is sworn to endanger us all."

"No one dies tonight," Pavel instituted. "or someone will be paying the price... the price of death."

Pavel lingered forward, alongside the rest of the Trio, over to a random grave built into the ground. No one had the slightest clue as to whom it may have belonged, or as to where it may have led to. It was a grave without it's tombstone, with not but a horizontally-sliding stone coveting the soil beneath it's rocky and stumbling presence. Encrypted onto it was a seal with an icon, an icon resembling a key, a key which only they wielded. Pavel slowly knelt down beside of the barren grave, placing the key through the icon/seal. An array of bright yellow began to glare over it in an aurora of pure light essence, gleaming more or less as the sliding stone began to create an opening underground. Deep underground, there lay a small staircase. Throughout this staircase lay an apprehensibly dark and unforeseeable temple plagued with hazeous clouds of pale white fog which blinded their path beneath . They took the odd man's way out—or in—and followed the staircase leading into it, together.

Upon their blinded entrance, they were guided with the light glare of the flash light which guided each of them through. They manually flashed them from side to side, from wall to wall, expecting to be awaited by a predominant force lying somewhere deep within it's murky, shallow contents.

"Where are we?" Alexei questioned he who it may have concerned.

"Inside the ancient Temple of Doom," Pavel answered him. "It's contents are the end of our lies as we once knew."

"Or are they just beginning?" Sergei questioned in complete disturbance.

"Yes," Alexei sought after. "...the beginning of the end..."

Once passed their final word, they slowly proceeded throughout the fog-laden path towards the very end, with an altar and a Holy Grail and window to it's side. Pavel very gently approached it, with an intent to summon a demon unlike any other...

When he surpassed the end of the fog trail, he came through with the Holy Grail in hand. He gently placed it upon the altar, awaiting an end result.

They were seeing more or less the same as from up above, only more tempting...

A mere shadow appointed them mere moments later, which lay very far from plain sight at this point in time.

With the alteration of a highly overtoned, sadistic voice which rattled throughout the far end walls of the temple, which shook each one of them with parallel fright...

"At last..." the deeply sadistic, sensational voice rattled. "the end of your lives have come into fruition... may you drown within the emptiness that are your lost souls, dear Mortals."

"Sir, we have come to offer you a truce," Pavel sincerely proclaimed. "No one man can come into recognition the failure of your past son, Drake, but our prey itself."

"And am I right to assume," the self-proclaimed "Phenom" proposed. "that your prey is that of my own?"

"Y-y-yes," Pavel stuttered in just fear. "The Daywalker is out to diminish the kind you have once saved, the humble and loyal vampires."

"Does he have a name," Phenom asked him. "besides the one he implores to make for himself?"

"Yes, Master Phenom," Pavel responded. "the so-called 'Blade'. He's out there, desperate and willing to tarnish your most beloved species, and only we hold the viable solution... and that is you. Your everlasting spirit can help retain us of our truce natures."

"Natures!" Phenom responded back oddly and harshly. "It is in your nature... to bring back the peace we have once sought after... by bringing back the grand coalition of the Dead, and only by doing so, shall we achieve such. Only through me can they be revived, and only through my will and grace can they live to see the day... the day in which the Mortals shall meet their makers! Now, are we into agreement that this is the beginning of the _end_ for Blade and his Mortal has-beens?"

"Yes, Master Phenom," Pavel accepted. "Blade will learn to one day accomplish his true purpose... and that is to serve you."

"Good," Phenom collaborated. "with you guided under my wing, and with the revival of the Dead imminent... failure is out of the question."

With those last words in mind, as well as Phenom's final parting gift straight from Hell, the rendition of the devious events to come have been written in stone...

It would only be a matter of time now...

TBC


	2. Throughout the Shadows

**Chapter summary: A vampire familiar duo unleashes the excellency of the next anti-Daywalker campaign by using Blade's body to unleash hell into Brooklyn, creating a setup and a potential lead, as well as a "secret weapon" otherwise known as a Doomsday Device into the danger-swept city.**

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**Chapter 2: Throughout the Shadows**

(Blade narrative speech)

_Throughout the shadows of the night..._

A moving figure that was the shadow of an unforeseen person or object came lingering thorough a dark road secreted in darkness, blinding the victims amany from the presence which lay somewhere far ahead.

_Throughout the darkness that is the night sky..._

A freeze frame of the damp, narrow night sky was seen, soaring over the blooming city of Brooklyn, the birth place of vampires.

_In every alley..._

A mere glimpse of the insides of a dark alley way were to be seen, clouded in dark fog and smoke from the inside of it, all the way to the lengthy and largely opaque end.

_Throughout every angle..._

A frontal view of the entire Brooklyn city, through out the Brooklyn Bridge lay a full-fledged city... the very heart of the city. Zooming in past the bridge, through the city streets surrounded by skyscrapers everywhere, through and past the shiny blue sea, it was all there.

_Of every footstep..._

A series of small footsteps were to be heard, though nothing before these footsteps were revealed, not even the slightest stint of hair or skin, just mellow, non-audible footsteps lurking through the streets.

_In every window of every house..._

Throughout these infractions there lay a glass window, of a random apartment building somewhere not far within the city, yet somehow, someway, the window seal slowly slid open, by a mysterious, random force which lay hidden within the darkness that deeply surrounded it. The burden lay bestowed very deeply beneath it all... the burden of a hellacious evil force, waiting patiently to prey upon the very minds and spirits of the innocent... it... lay... waiting...

_Behind every closed door or closet..._

The insides of a bedroom inside of a random apartment building, where the closed door was seen randomly opening after the automatic twist and turn of it's nob. The door manually slid open without a distinct sound or voice...

_There lies an evil force or spirit..._

Volume was rather dim here. Nothing was to be heard of it but the consistent moaning of the force that lay in waiting.

_Whom lies in waiting..._

Inside, there lay a closet door... nothing moved inside or out... yet.

_Waiting to unleash the True Demon into this world, and when they do..._

Blade paused in his narrative speech, ready to make good of the second plank.

_They will unleash Hell..._

Suddenly, an implosion. The scenery became tainted with a mere constant, thorough tint of red and orange everywhere as the buildings burn and light up the dark night sky blankets. A combustion of flames and burnt bodies, charred and engulfed to nothing but a stash of corpses fulfilled the said apartment building, burnt to an inferno from every floor, leaving a bunch of people walking along the walkway beside of each and every window which lay on the bottom floor.

When someone walking throughout the alley across from the building nearby was stepping through, not knowing what to expect next, when suddenly, a pair of soft landings was heard just three feet behind him.

And then it hit him... or rather, _bit_ him. Hard. A sharp set of vampire fangs sank through his moldy flesh as this dark creature began to suck him dry like nectar, and in an instant, dropped him like a helpless rag doll. His screams preceding were nothing more but a far—or short—cry from here, but nonetheless, were heard... to a degree.

"What the hell?" a man cursed in disbelief, who was standing in the nearby walkway.

Suddenly, he walked over towards the dark alley, yet was encountered by a series of silver bullets, soaring from the back of a submachine gun pair/duel wild cleanly into his chest and all surrounding areas, leaving one single bloody dot for each. The lifeless man helplessly fell on both knees, and then flat on his chest, in a mess of blood. The end result was rather panicking as they rushed out into the open, opening yet more fire, this time, at civilians walking across a pathway next to buildings across the street. Women's screams could be heard right along with the subsequent gun fire, getting one kill for each shot yet not missing once. They made sure _every_ shot counted. Shattered glass and spilled bodies and all. Suddenly, they sensed something...

An attacking man engaging them from behind. The man lept at the closest of the two—an impostor of Blade and someone else—only to be faced with a shotgun shell right to the stomach area as he unsheeted it from his belt while he was in midair. He then turned around, and joined his cohort in pelting humans with shotgun shells. They made quick, easy work of them, as bodies were being scattered by the strengthening force of their shotgun shells.

Blade (?) then looked behind him, and knew what had been coming to them from the blazing police sirens screeching about. A cop far, speeding through the nearby street. Alexei, disguised as Blade with a fake identity, barrel rolled into the road and ripped clearly through the cop car as it came to him, sending the officers flying 10 feet into the air, gushing torments of draining blood. He began to drink from it from midair as it spilled onto him.

The car, needless to say, was mashed as if in a wreck, and flew through the air before landing safely in the road, where a large commercial van collided with it just as what appeared to be Blade and a woman with long blond hair and black cape and vest jumped on top of the winshield and swiped at it with their claws. Their slashes left a thin layer of blood all over as it was sent into a sideways skid. The Blade and whatsherface impostors lept off of the exposed vehicle in a front flip, landing on two more of their heads—one for each—and cutting them straight off in a blood-squirting frenzy. They continued running from there.

The two Blade phonies—both he male and feminine—each parted ways. Blade (?) took one walkway—the one on the left—while the other took the right. Each one managed to transport themselves from the starting point of each walkway to the end simultaneously as if teleporting, readying their claws and then releasing as they made it to the end of the trail. First, there were dozens of civilians, then there was none, just fine pools of red for each slain prospect. They then witnessed their urgency to turn a and check for policia kick in.

Their bodies suddenly vanished, leaving as nothing but crisp clear air to where they were at originally just as they heard the unforgiving sound of police sirens escaping through the city. Ever suddenly, the entire rest of the city was engulfed in flames—that hasn't already been engulfed—and everything surrounding just seconds after their talently-devoid escape from the vacated city, but nonetheless, there had been somebody watching from the clock tower somewhere deep into the city, the only part that hadn't been left for dead; or for cinders.

As for the real Blade, he was out there, inside of a new holdout right on Sea Shore Bay... who or what it was that brought him here remained to be seen as of now.


	3. Tainted Memories

**Chapter Summary: Blade meets up with a group of ex-familiars who contacted him. Blade learns of the secrets which have been hidden from him, and learns of the new threat which emerges from far beyond the grave.**

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Chapter 3: Tainted Memories**

There was a photograph on a fire place next to a raging fire. One that stood out more to them than any other that crossed their eerie and deluded minds, one that left more tainted memories than actual highlights. It was a photograph of Abby and King, the Nightstalkers, which was nothing more than a final memory. A faded one... it was rather saddening to think that, just 3 days ago today, their fate was lost to Phenom, the Devil himself.

* * *

It had been a mild, timid summer night that night for the Nightstalkers Abagail and Hannibal. Without Blade, every night and day from there on in was the same. The feeling of consequence of fighting the war against vampires no longer reeled it's way into memory, all of it was gone. The blood, the warfare, the tragedy, the thought of losing someone very close, all of it. It all became a thing of the past. 

Now the Nightstalkers must carry off into the present, where they were seen together, on another one of their usual night-ins where they would live the night in peace, something they haven't had for a really, really long time. An array of stars covering the night sky over a blanket of darkness soared over the city into the night, together, seemingly by themselves. They've been together for months, and with the vampirial menace out of the way, there was simply no stopping them from taking it to the next level, except for maybe a few tainted memories to come around.

"How are ya feelin', King?" Abby asked him out of curiosity.

"I feel like I'm kinda..." Kind responded, not entirely sure of himself. "in a zone right now. Life without Blade and everything... it just makes me wonder about a lot of things."

"Wonder?" Abby questioned him. "About what?"

"Like what he's been doing with his life," King replied. "ever since he left us, where he could be, you know, that sort of thing."

"Well," Abby corresponded. "What do you think?"

"I've heard a lot of different things," King answered her. "I heard he was up in Brooklyn with a couple of hot shots who think they're better than us, I heard he met up with your long lost sister, Ally, there, hell freezing over, you know, shit like that."

"In Brooklyn?" Abby corresponded in doubt. "the home of vampires? You can't be serious."

"Well actually, I think I am serious on this one, Abby," King said in regret. "I guess he's just out there doing what he's gotta do, 'cause you and I both know that the war never ends, right? ...or maybe it's just a rumor or something, I don't know."

"While we're here playing it safe, huh?" Abby implied.

"Yes," King inferred, scratching his head. "..but not safe from eachother."

"Far from it, King," Abby concluded, joining lips with King.

So there they were, arms clutched tightly around eachother, exchanging kisses to one another, outside on the deck where Abby does her crossbow training, Abby piled right on top of King, feeling eachother's body heat as they dazed off into the night in eachother's reach. They knew they wouldn't go it alone..."

* * *

(Elsewhere...) 

In the barren wasteland of Dead afterspirits where the Devil lurks inside his steel-ladened throne day by day, night by night, looking for redemption against the Gods that have banished him here, waiting ever patiently for the day in which he may make his return to the upper world, and justify against the living with the presence of his Dead...

Suddenly, he was confronted by a tall man with long wavy black hair and a mage's cloak and staff. He knelt down before Phenom, ready to deliver his message...

"I deeply apologize," Vladimir, a servant of his who died and was born Russian and was sentenced to Hell for eternity. "for the sands of time seem to be favoring the Gods at this point, but I'm afraid I have some news."

"I do not see," Phenom responded with an indescribably sadistic tone in his voice. "how a mere heretic, such as yourself, can merit an apology to the True Demon. What Demon's Tale have you for me today, unloyal heretic?"

"About your loss," Vladimir deeply regretted to inform him.

At this moment, a party of more mage servants came walking in, all of which were carrying a black coffin bagged in leather and with a seal in the form of a demon's cross embedded onto it. A trail surrounded by boundaries of eternal flames awaited their arrival to the Devil's throne.

Upon their arrival, they set the coffin down, and placed it within plain sight of the so-called "True Demon". He was within a foot's distance of the sealed casket from his throne, waiting to be opened...

A rising entity of smoke clouded their paths just as soon as the seal was lifted, and the coffin lid opened. They saw none of it for moments to come, and neither did Phenom. When the smoke elapsed and vanished, they found a lost soul inside of it, waiting to take his last ride into Hell, the matter of who tarnishing Phenom as soon as he saw anything of him. His eyes gleamed to an essence fury of blood red whenever they laid eyes on it... it was Drake, his only son, the only thing being left a mystery being the autopsy, which was a mystery even to Phenom at this point, though he very clearly wasn't here for autopsy... he was merely here for revenge, and much more often than not, he would get what he wanted.

"And am I to assume that _this_ is my final parting gift?" Phenom questioned in fury. "Another lost soul to add to my collection? Just when it struck me to think that, after all these years, I have expected the Underworld to be worthy servants, yet weakness and deception were all that you have offered me! Now for _my_ part of the bargain!"

His eyes were gleaming with enough hate to boil down even the most condensed form of lifeform on earth. That hatred translated into fuel to light his fire, where he glanced up upon his mages for merely one second, and set them all on fire the next. He left each of them burning to eternal crispy goodness, a stash of charcoal to add to his fiery collection.

"They say anger is what weakens he who possesses it," Phenom self proclaimed. "They lied!"

Phenom raised one hand in pure agony, towards a chain of fiery summits surrounded by liquid hot lava pools and a nearly blind-sighting hail of fire and smoke somewhere far in the distance, and appeared to be acting towards them by forwarding a pushing motion with both hands, destroying everything in it's line of sight in mere seconds. He released from the forward motions, and all of the fiery mountaintops collapsed immediately into the lava awaiting them down below. A sizable combustion of rising lava erupted from it's massive impact, leaving behind an ordinary display of fire and lava. The summits were nothing but ash in lava, and all of his Dead creatures who hung loose along the mountainsides went down with them.

"This time," Phenom proposed. "I am the giver, and _you_ are the takers! Enjoy it while it lasts!"

At this point, Phenom turned around from his cold shoulder position and used a telekinetic force to level 5 more of his servants into a nearby wall of stone supporting them and a seemingly endless line of stories somewhere up high above them, along with his trusted weapon—a 5-bladed hell fork—which preceded them. The unlucky 5 were forced into it as it lay pinned against the wall by this telekinetic force, stacked all the way up against it as far as it's 5 tips would stretch and, with that force, released them from it. The results were rather messy and left lots of their own blood behind and stained onto the hell fork.

"Failure comes at a price," Phenom sought after. "Are you willing to pay it?"

Phenom, with no intention whatsoever of that question being answered, converted more of his still-flowing hatred into an array of a tornado composed of lava and Dead souls within the lava pools, tearing up and consuming much of the Death Angels which were soaring about somewhere high up. It was pretty much the equivalence of the nearly-invisible ceiling, if there was such a thing in this "place". No results were left but a sum of more souls on his conscience, and an opening... looks like Phenom found himself a lead.

* * *

(Back on Los Angeles...) 

As Abby and King were still having their ways with one another, they were unkindly interrupted by a sudden implosion taking place somewhere deep within the city, which was in almost plain sight from where they were. Abby couldn't help but release her clutch from King's as she got up on foot to witness the tragedy that was painstakingly at hand. They witnessed that, one-by-one, the city was erupting in flames, fractions of it burning and falling like dominoes. Smoke and the scent of flame was the image that portrayed much of the downtown area up to here. They couldn't help but run, knowing their time was very soon coming.

"What the FUCK!" King yelled cursing in his usual tone.

"The war's not officially over," Abby reasoned.

"Indeed it isn't," King forewarned under his breath.

"So what are you waiting for?" Abby asked him curiously. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Funny how you should say that," King comprehended. "I thought we were in Hell."

"We are," Abby corrected him. "It's Hell on Earth."

"How do you know so much, Abby?" King tested her.

"There isn't much else to know," Abby answered. "is there?"

"Yeah," King rationed. "We kinda need to..."

King looked ahead and saw that suddenly, the deck and the hinges surrounding the doors were lit afire. He knew the house would be next."

"RUN!"

King did just that, and so did Abby. Whether they realized it or not, they were in a situation far from escapable, the only choice left being to survive the inescapable. They ran inside the house, just as Abby came into realization that he actually bothered to grab some essentials from his room: his pistols, body/vest armor, everything. Abby couldn't believe it.

"King!" Abby called out. "There's no time for that! We must go!"

"I'll be there in just a sec, okay?"

"KING!"

King, in seconds timing, was all geared up and prepared for an improbable hunt for vampires, or whatever it was that was out there wrecking havoc amongst Los Angeles when, just as he made his way over towards the front door, a burning piece of wood fell on top of him, keeping him in his place. Abby was in a tight position right about now, and King left in an even tighter one.

"I'm not leaving without you, King" Abby insisted.

"You must," King encouraged. "It's what's best for us... the Nightstalkers. Don't worry about me... I'm just an asshole."

"I'm afraid I'm gonna miss you, King," Abby inferred.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll see me again someday," King predicted. "...in the afterlife."

"I guess this means goodbye then," Abby implied.

"G-g-goodbye," King said stuttering, then closing his eyes as his body begins to light up in flames underneath the fallen wood piece.

Suddenly, Abby heard someone's cry from another sleeper cell bedroom somewhere close by... it was Zoe.

"Mommy!" Zoe started crying for help.

"Yeah, I'm coming, Zoe!" Abby answered her.

On her way there, however, another piece of fallen burning wood came crashing down right at her feet, barely missing, thus blowing a huge hole in the upstairs surface. The fiery wood could be seen somewhere several feet down below, as could the ashes rising from it, but Abby had absolutely no time to observe and rescue her daughter from even more falling debris.

When she got there, she noticed that much of her room was an inferno, with a maze of flames to surpass to get to her daughter, Zoe's, location. Abby saw a fiery pit, and bared no fear in leaping it, jumping over without withdrawing a single burn on her hit count. Abby approached Zoe with a usual Mother-Daughter relationship look, holding her tight in her Mother's arms.

"It's okay, Zoe," Abby whispered to her. "Momma's here to save you."

She wasted no time—even with Zoe held tightly in her arms—escaping her bedroom, and heading down the stairs to yet another maze as, for each and every one of the 15 steps heading down, the stair step behind them fell and collapsed to a burning array of ash all the way down. When Abby made it outside, she found herself rushing safely towards her backyard, which was engulfed in a river of flames as well which burned the grass. She continued running merely a foot ahead to a random burst of flames which collected themselves and formed into something deemed to be deadly; an Underworld fiend of some sort. Abby backed the other way, and ran as fast as she could, only to be cornered by another fiend which was derived from the rising flames. Abby, phased by it's presence, fell to where she would be sitting on the grass area not yet harmed, in pure shock. To the left of her, her path got blockaded by a wall of flames, as had the path to her right. She clearly had nowhere to go... she was trapped, and, more or less... doomed.

"Mommy, I'm scared!" Zoe pleaded.

"It's okay, honey," Abby encouraged. "I'm scared, too."

"What about King?" Zoe asked her.

"King'll be just fine," Abby somewhat lied. "Just not himself."

When suddenly, Abby looked back to face her biggest fear, as well as every mortal's biggest, and dared not hesitate to turn and look the opposite direction, to something more or less intimidating than what she saw just 2 seconds earlier... Hannibal King, in vampire form, once again. He clearly was not the same as before.

"Abby," the deeply scary voice behind her back called out to her. "Oh Abby... your 'boyfriend' is here to see you."

Abby stared at King as he had begun approaching her, and saw no choice but to stay where she was... better him than the Devil—Phenom—after all.

...followed by an incoherent, emotional scream seconds later, as well as the sound of sharp vampire teeth sinking into her smooth-surfaced flesh. Zoe watched, in tears, as her own Mother was being attacked by the one she always knew and loved, the one she redeemed of his evil tasks as a vampire, only to go back to being what he was before they first met, whereas Zoe herself remained safe... in Phenom's arms, not that she had anywhere else to go, either. All was good aside from that, though... the Devil himself wouldn't be as evil as to harm a child... would he?

* * *

(3 days later...) 

As the so-called "ex familiars," Ash (Broodbank) and Reidyn (Sheilds) were hanging out that night, by the fireplace, Blade came in, occupying himself on his first night working with them, still curious as to what the situation was, as expected, being that this was only his "first day on the job".

"Just what brings me here to you?" Blade began to question. "A group of ex-familiars?"

"Hannibal King," Reidyn cited. "died of a burning home falling on top of him, came back to life as a vampire... Abby Whistler, died of a broken heart, of a broken soul, and of massive blood loss from the one she always loved and trusted... Abe Whistler... died of an explosion, yet came back to life when he sold his soul to the Devil for Immortality. Now we are all that you've got left."

"Her sister's still alive," Blade informed.

"Who?" Ash questioned, introducing herself to the conversation.

"Ally Whistler," Blade answered. "Last I heard, she was up hunting vampires in downtown Brooklyn... she calls herself a Nightwalker."

"Abby's older sister, huh?" Reidyn corresponded. "How cute."

"Someone mailed me her calling card," Blade foretold, showing it to Reidyn. "She says she's been tearing up vampire night and strip clubs all across town. She's one feisty heffe."

"Well right now," Ash sought out. "there are bigger things out there than vampires, much bigger things. That's why we contacted you; because you need special help and training."

"Bigger things," Blade dissented. "like what?"

"Come see for yourself," Ash encouraged.

They played a game of Follow the Leader inside the computer room, on a situational rule. Ash was the leader and Blade and Reidyn were her two followers. They aboded by the typical rule of women coming first and men coming second behind her.

When they got there, they confronted a computer desk with a batchful of items stacked across it: a copy of the PlayStation game Jersey Devil, an End of Days DVD, photographs captioned "the Devil's Tramping Ground" w/pictures to follow, a New Jersey Devils banner and game puck, a bunch of plastic Devil masks for Halloween costumes, even a replica of a demon's index claw/finger w/a bloody tip. It was like devils galore in this place.

"Does any of this stuff ring any bells, Blade?" Reidyn asked him out of his own curiosity.

"Fuckin' Devil worshipers," Blade mouthed off ranting to himself with a barely audible tone in his mouth.

"Not anymore," Reidyn corrected him. "We are his ex-familiars. We showed him a part of Hell his kind never wanted to see, his final parting gift.

"Oh," Blade intrigued. "so Blackrist Hell exists after all."

"Right, exactly," Reidyn commented in gratitude. "There are two sides to Hell: one of light, and one of darkness."

"How do you know all this?" Blade asked him curiously.

"Well, there comes an old saying," Reidyn explained. "before you can see the light, you must travel through darkness. It is the one path which leads to destiny."

"Hmm," Blade grunted to himself. "Now I've seen everything."

"Oh no, trust me," Reidyn insisted. "you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"And?..."

"_And_," Reidyn responded back to him. "I just wanted to let you know the kind of danger you will be getting yourself into. Whether you know it or not, you are all alone with the Devil, on a mission to Hell, and when it's all said and done, you will be lucky if your soul is left intact. His rage alone took King's life, and that's child's play compared to what the Devil is _truly_ capable of."

"Just what is it about Satan," Blade proceeded to ask. "that makes him any different from his predecessors, anyway?"

"Please," Reidyn sneered. "the dark era of Satan is a thing of the past, my friend. Over the years, his evil deeds have earned himself the self righteous name of Phenom. Don't let his destruction of you and all that you live for be one of them."

"So that's what this is about?" Blade questioned passionately. "A bunch of suckhead Gods losing their identities?"

"You know, that's funny," Reidyn carried on. "because at some point, you are bound to lose yours as well. The thing is, you are not yet ready. Get some rest. We'll train tomorrow morning."

With those final words of advice, Blade is headed towards the staircase—located outside the computer room into the living room—bewildered by the many dismal thoughts lingering in his head, as usual. He remained his usual self by the time he made it upstairs and, more or less, himself when he was secured safely in bed inside their "guest" bedroom. He clearly was not ready to give into the night, not yet...

(Did Abby Whistler _really_ perish? Or is it just a small glimpse of things to come? Continue reading _Blade: Hellbound_ to find out!)

TBC


	4. A New Beginning

**Chapter summary: Blade begins day one of his much-needed training... only it was more than he expected.**

**

* * *

Chapter 4: A New Beginning**

It had been a typical night for Blade, much like every night was. He was rather hesitant in shaking of the nightmare he was having, only this wasn't his nightmare, it was somebody else's, and more importantly than that, it wasn't anything he hasn't already seen before: deja vu all over again for Blade, it seemed.

He was dreaming, and remembered the last moment they shared together, inside of their old place, beside a docking bay, with hordes of FBI officers swarming around every corner in every room, armed and utterly dangerous. Whistler was left with them, in a hallway filled with sleeper cells, each holding a computer inside. When he triggered th third, he took a shot to the hp, a silver bullet tearing a manhole through his moldy flesh. He fell, backed directly into a computer desk with a firearm in hand.

"He's got something in his hand!" a random FBI officer precautioned.

"Freeze!" said another. "Don't lift a finger!"

"How about this one?" Whistler asked, flipping the two officers off.

Wen Whistler came through with the transaction, the C-4 bomb exploded in his hand. An outburst of flames took him and the rest of them down with most of the holdout, which burst into flame and rubble, but nonetheless, it didn't end there. Not for old man Whistler...

...it was far from ended.

All around him, the flame particles began recollecting themselves and the clouds of fire and ash suddenly turned into a fiery pit all around him, and he had been falling through it, all the way to the deep and prolonged end. Whether he realized it or not, he, himself, was left all alone with the Devil, on a mission to Hell, and he would become the first to see him. First, and supposedly last...

A fury of repetitive yet near-silent echoes awaited him deep down below...

("The tales of your past shall soon perish") ... ("I will take your greatest fears") ... (and make them a reality") ... ("at last, your horrors shall suffice") ... ("there's no turning back now") ... ("once you have stepped in") ... ("there is no way out").

Apparently, that didn't sit too well with the old man."Who in the fucking hell are you?" Whistler asked in cursing. "Just where the fuck am I? What do you want from me you sick sonuvabitch!"

"Who am I?" the voice of the shadow questioned right back at him. "I'm the Devil, the very Incarnation of Evil, the berserker of pain, and the giver of death. As for where you are, or what I want, I think the name True Demon pretty much speaks for itself. I want your soul... it is deemed necessary."

"Necessary," Whistler began to question. "for what?"

"For your protection," the True Demon answered him.

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean," Whistler impatiently asked him. "you fuggin' sick sadistic psychobitch?"

"It means that you and I, together," Phenom informed him. "can make ends meet. Through your newborn spirit to be, just imagine what we can accomplish."

"You wouldn't know the first thing about making ends meet," Whistler insulted. "honkeytonk."

"Oh really?" Phenom replied. "Then I guess it's for you to know, and for me to find out..."

At that moment, Phenom vastly approached Whistler with an intent to kill him. Whistler freaked in panic and backed off of the edge of the deathbed made of stone in which he lay prone to, sweat rolling down his frightful face and his eyes widening with fear as he fell off of it. He lay pinned up against the bottom of it, on both knees, begging and cowering for salvation.

"Okay! Okay!" Whistler pleaded. "Sir Phenom, I oblige. Just make it as quick and clean as possible."

"Why, I thank you, dear mortal," Phenom exhaled. "for your decision has led you past the darkness which blinds your path. Lesson be learned: before you can see the light, you must travel through darkness. You, my friend, have fulfilled that task. Now for the hard-earned reward..."

Suddenly, the air began to fold around Whistler and shrouded dust particles from his vastly-acquiring soul began to suffice as he is currently put in a freeze-frame position. A mere shadow of a supposed black mask/w a red cape begin to flicker over his face and shoulders while undergoing the sudden acquisition process when, just as Whistler's heart started beating once again, and he could finally breathe in and out once more, the flickering halted and is entrusted with the cape and mask he tentatively sought after. Nothing showed of his identity but his long gray hair stretching down the back of his neck. He came to eye Phenom, reclusively, bowing on one knee to do it.

"Good," Phenom rewarded. "Now that I have you under my wing, there is nothing, and no one, that can stop us from doing what is right..."

("There's nothing nothing") ... ("and no one no one") ... ("that can stop us.")

Those very words continued to echo inside of Blade's head for a moment until Blade's mind became irritated to the point where he would wake from his sleep, finding himself somewhere he never thought he would be...

...home sweet home... in Brooklyn.

Nonetheless, he knew he had to get down to business... there was much to miss.

* * *

Blade came walking down the stairs rather slowly as if tired, to the people who invited him here. They had been waring their usual set of clothes, as had he, whereas Ash and Reidyn look at him with a rather unimpressed look. 

"Looks like your gear's a bit outdated there, B," Reidyn inferred.

"Here," Ash insisted. "Come with us. We have exactly what you need."

"Besides a girlfriend," Reidyn encouraged. "Right, Ashley?"

"Yeah," Ash responded. "Exactly."

Without further adue, Blade followed the two of the m into their special training quarters to the right of their living room. Through this door lay a dojo, which was mostly a blank stare as nothing filled it but a bunch of flaming red candles, clay pots and a few crates batched all the way towards the very end. Reidyn was already at the very end of the dojo by the time Blade became self aware.

"First thing's first, Blade," Reidyn informed him. "You will need stronger equipment if you are to withstand his soul-possessing strength and ability, and only we hold the anecdote for it. Come look and see for yourself."

Blade followed Reidyn over to one of the chests located towards the far end of the gym barricaded with stone pillars and clay pots everywhere around it. When he got there, Reidyn as ready to begin unveiling his new battle armor to him.

"The first thing you will need," Reidyn explained. "in order to slay the Demon which endangers us all, is immunity. To fight him, you must be restrained and properly equipped with the one thing he cannot destroy."

Reidyn closed the chest—which was sealed back up with a semi-audible leather clank at the very end of it all—as he was beginning to turn around to face Blade.

A gift from the ancient Temple of Doom," Reidyn carried on, completely turning around to face Blade now. "A self-proclaimed Hellsuit, said to have been passed on from Krypticalonean, a vampire legend-turned God who died six hundred years ago. Since his departure, this ancient artifact has been stowed away for centuries to come, never to be recovered... until now."

By then, Reidyn had already held the said suit in his hand. It was a black metal, one-sided vest with retractable armor.

"We have uncovered the final piece to the puzzle," Reidyn inscribed, pressing his finger up against a button on the suit. "Just press and hold this button here, and half a foot of metal and steel will be pierced through your flesh upon it's release, but don't ask: it's for your protection."

Reidyn tossed it to Blade, which he caught with ease. He eyed it with a rather awkward look as Reidyn came to his aid.

"Close your eyes, and try to relax," Reidyn encouraged. "This is gonna hurt a little bit."

Reidyn went through with the transaction. As the large piece of metal lay strapped securely around his upper body, he watched as a foot of metal came plunging through the skin with the press of a button located to the far right of it. Blade's eyes and face looked as if he was swelling with pain from it. When it was over, he sought after a metal body vest that was a foot thick, with half of it jammed tightly through the skin with spikes attached to the bloody end. Blade was rather slow at easing up on the pain driven from it.

"Oh, yes, it's a bitch, I know," Reidyn categorized, putting the rest of the Hellsuit on, which was a visor implanted in the back of his head stretching over his forehead with glowing red eye vision, and a black silk shirt over a pair of arm and shoulder blades on each arm, lined up with spikes stretching down each sleeve in the form of a spiral. "but just what you supposed to do with a bitch again? You slap it right back, plain and simple."

"I think I'm gonna slap you instead," Blade threatened, growling from the pain. "How's that sound?"

"Good," Reidyn agreed. "but I like this idea better!"

An all out street fight suddenly broke out as Reidyn delivered the first shot with a palm stab to the chest, followed by a spin kick. Blade felt the hit's reaction and fell from it. Blade looked up to a vastly approaching Reidyn, ready to pounce in on his injured foe.

"Come on!" Reidyn encouraged shouting. "This is like teaching little kids karate!"

As Reidyn engaged Blade, he recovered and retaliated with a spinarooni kick to the jaw. Reidyn rebounded yet spun backwards from the hit, his back facing towards Blade's direction.

"What's worse?" Blade asked Reidyn, while walking towards him. "Fighting and losing... or not fighting at all?"

Reidyn turned around in time to make good on another attack, this time, a high spin kick, which was blocked and caught with ease. Reidyn used his opposite foot as leverage, and reversed it into a somersault drop kick with it, which connected with his head and backed him into a wall. Reidyn came rushing towards Blade as soon as he rebounded from the fall, and attempted a wall jump, using Blade's upper body as leverage, yet was only successful in leaping from his chest as Blade blocked it with a pair of crossed arms. Blade saw Reidyn falling through midair, and sent him flying five feet back with a roundhouse kick, sending him on his back. Blade was vast at cashing in on such an opportunity.

From there, Reidyn wasted no time making a next move... a back flip kick right to the chin of Blade. Blade's entire head and body bounced upon Reidyn's on foot return, where he was encountered by a dragon strike kick. Blade saw the hit coming and, just seconds away form having Reidyn's shoe sole strike his forehead, blocked and grabbed the kick, and violently threw him back towards the wall just ten feet short. Reidyn attempted yet another wall jump while Blade threw a pair of glaives at him as he saw him rushing towards the end. Reidyn hit the wall and jumped it just as the two blades came an inch shy of cutting a pair of holes in his legs. Just as Blade came rushing over towards him, Reidyn performed a somersault spin off the wall and landed right on top of Blade's head as he reversed it into a hurricarrana. Blade was to become floorbound...

As soon as Blade hit the floor, Blade grabbed both legs and rolled him over and punched him twice in the face through he brickets. Blade began to hammer away at Reidyn with a couple of hard rights to the face, but Reidyn broke out of the hold prior to a 4th blow and reversed it into a hook kick floorground. It was barely even successful in getting Blade to linger from it. Blade very quickly bounced back and tried to land another punch—this time, overhanded—but Reidyn saw things his way and lept slightly over him, nailing him with a heel kick to the back of the head, yet apparently, the brawl ended—or paused—there.

"It is plain to see," Reidyn instituted. "...that after all these years of hunting vampires, you are nothing but an artifact, Blade. Using all that strength yet disregarding the one thing that matters most."

"And that would be?" Blade asked him curiously.

"Perseverance," Reidyn answered.

Blade rushed over to Reidyn, attempting to swing another right hand, yet hit nothing but thin air just a millisecond passing from where Blade swung a fist to the time it normally would hit! Reidyn magically appeared behind Blade immediately afterwards—a teleportation—and leveled him with another dragon strike to the back of his skull and spine. Blade was rather slow to shake that one off, but nonetheless recovered. Blade counterattacked with a blind knuckle straight to the head, which Reidyn countered and reversed with an arm drag takedown, but before sending him back first towards the floor, Blade countered with a couple of flips and reversed into an arm drag of his own, which was counter reversed with a flip into an arm roll. Blade couldn't believe he was losing, to an ex-familiar, of all people.

Blade rebounded off that hit, and inverted a leg sweep, once again, hitting nothing but damp air. Blade was hit while making his way back on foot with a series of seemingly invisible blows, whereas Blade was to shake them off and counterattack each one with various punches and kicks, all of which missed their target. The last one ended with a teleportation-turned blind elbow, which sent Blade body first into the floor upon impact.

Blade seemed to have taken his last fall... for the day.

"You've got a lot to learn," Reidyn inferred, walking past Blade. "Old man."

And that is where day one of training ended, with Blade's head out of the picture. He had never taken such a beating before, much less, from an ex-familiar. At first he couldn't believe it, and neither could Reidyn. He was out of his league...

TBC


	5. Lesson be Learned

**Chapter Summary: When Blade finds that he must learn the ways of a Hellraiser in order to succumb to the dark nature of the true Demon, training day for Blade becomes much more intense.**

**

* * *

Chapter 5: Lesson be Learned**

Blade spent the rest of the day, much of the morning, inside of a gauntlet room, meditating the night out, doing so for hours upon hours to come yet. He knew he wasn't ready. Not yet.

* * *

Somewhere deep within the Temple of Doom, the new home of the vampires... 

"It is apparent," Alexei, Russian vampire, inferred. "that Blade is once again out of his league. Our ex-familiars got the best of him."

"My power," Phenom induced. "outweighs failure."

"No power," Alexei presented. "can match yours, Master."

"Blade is not yet worthy," Phenom criticized. "to give into the night."

"Our kind will become shadows of the night sky," Alexei examined. "where vampires reign supreme."

"No Mortal will be spared," Phenom theorized.

"No," Alexei accepted with a smile on his face. "...not one."

* * *

(meanwhile...) 

Blade was awoken from his meditation as the ex-familiars slid open the door leading into the barely occupied gauntlet room. It became apparent that Blade was not yet finished with that his new partners-in-justice have started.

"Wake up, Blade," Reidyn aroused. "Your training is not yet complete..."

_Your training is not yet complete_. Those are the words that stood out the most to him, like an attachment to his mind, knowing he'd have gone through so much yet there was still much to accomplish yet. Blade headed out of the gauntlet room, following Ash and Reidyn outside... he knew the job was far from finished, though the travel to the next stage of his training was far longer than it initially seemed.

"Isn't it sad," Reidyn input, walking further down the hall with him and Reidyn. "that you fall not at the hands of a greater force, but by that of a force you do not inherit?"

"I've never seen anything like it before," Blade answered. "I take it you guys must be the third world bunch."

"Just remember that there is no pain in suffering," Reidyn insisted. "but there is pain _and_ suffering in not trying at all."

"And I'm supposed to take you Junior Scouts seriously?" Blade imposed furiously. "going through your little cliches to win a date with the Devil on a one way ticket to Hell? Have you fuckers lost your damn minds!"

"No," Reidyn answered him. "One must not rely on acts of symbolism to achieve one's means. Your mind can only accomplish so much before it crumbles and falls apart. You must learn to use it as a guiding tool that will bring you inner strength to the next level. You must learn to be the same inside as out... you must become pure."

"There's no purity in being a Daywalker," Blade reasoned. "It's something I can't help but keep inside of me... something I can't get rid of."

"There's more to becoming a Daywalker than a typical lust for blood and flesh," Reidyn explained. "what if you could use your thirst as a weapon and not a gift? What if the loss of your family could translate into immense power? Into energy? What would you give for a gift such as that?"

"It's a price I'm willing to pay," Blade agreed.

"Then come with me," Reidyn requested. "and obtain a power far greater than any Hunter has ever deemed possessed."

"Beware, Blade," Ash precautioned. "What you are about to attempt, few people have ever seen before."

Blade took his kind words of advice, and followed him into another private quarters, a mid-sized sleeper cell room filled with various water commas, each containing an inept, infunctional vampire inside of each. Blade gave each one a hawk's eye, staring deep into the first one his eyes crossed paths with.

"Blade," Reidyn called out, walking around to glass cells with his arms folded behind his back. "the time has come for you to find out if you so possess the Hellsuit's true power, to find if this suit has blessed you with the power and spirit of Krypticalonean. This will be your first test."

Reidyn paused to walk further down the slope of the cortex, showing Blade around it.

"As you can see," Reidyn endured. "these vampires are being mind-controlled by a telekinetic force stored inside the visor in the back of your head. Like all else, you control what happens to them. When I say "go," you will release them from their cells, and whatever you do, do not try anything stupid."

Blade stood patiently, waiting for the joyful moment in which he could prey in on his next suckhead victims. He was making a living—and collection—out of doing so. Reidyn held a moment or two off before giving Blade the "heads up" on the inevitable situation at hand.

"Now, on my lead," Reidyn commanded. "you will free these lost souls, only to take care of each one of them not personally, but mentally. Do not rely on your biceps nor your sword to finish the job for you... it's what's inside that counts."

"I've said this before," Blade commented. "and I'll say it again..."

Blade paused, shaking his head sideways and swerving it a couple of times.

"Let's get ready to roll with this," Blade intrigued.

"On 'three,'" Reidyn commanded. "One... two... three!"

At that moment—rather, that very instant—Blade ripped and let loose on the targets. He let his mind do all the talking.

He began to focus in with his mind, and just as he did so, managed to break open every last one of the glass prisons, using his mind as a weapon against it. Numerous gallons of water and many tiny shards of glass were shattering and splurting all over the floor. Out of these implosions came a single vampire for each one. They dared not take turns directing attacks at Blade, as each one lept at Blade in a simultaneous fashion, ready to make short work of his dark flesh. They felt their lust and thirst for fresh blood reeling in. Blade merely closed his eyes as they had done so, daring not open them.

"Give into it, Blade," he heard Reidyn ponder softly, with his enhanced visor. "Use your angst against them."

Blade's head shivered with agony as , by the time Blade once again opened his eyes, he saw clouds of dust, ash, and cinder blowing apart, deriving themselves from their slain bodies, in strong gusts. They eventually collected into a single stash along the floor, which reminded Blade of an ash trey filled with vampire corpse cinders. He knew the job had been completed... up to this point. Not one of the dozen or so was left...

"Good," Reidyn complemented him. "very good... revenge is an acceptable motive for strength, but only in the right hands and mind, and you have just shown it. Now, just picture your revenge against me for what I did to you earlier... but beware: killing me will, in return, kill off any hope or prayer of you ever taming the True Demon which lurks somewhere deep within."

At first, Blade contemplated it with his mind... and then he carried out with with a fury of shown mental power and strength. He violently threw Reidyn over to him with an invisible-yet strong force, and Blade followed in the direction he was heading as he threw Reidyn head-first into the nearest wall, which Reidyn landed safely with a wall plant and a front flip off of it, which Blade blocked with a pair of crossed arms, the blocked hit forcing Blade back a couple of grandfather steps. Reidyn tried to land a hard left, followed by a hard right, both of which Blade blocked and threw off with ease. Reidyn, who had not faced any counterattacks, threw in a pair of blind knuckles, one with the left hand, and then the other, both of which were again blocked and pushed out of position by a powerful kick to the spine. Reidyn stepped further up to congratulate him on the effort.

"Finally," Reidyn remarked. "the Daywalker is showing some emotion for himself. What an effort."

Reidyn backed away and attempted another one of his signature moves, one that's been attempted three times in one day—the dragon strike—which Blade countered with a spin kick as Blade's foot connected with Reidyn's chest as he was soaring through midair. Reidyn was stunned by the hit and leveled into the nearby wall which left a small dent in it and left Reidyn motionless. Man, that hit was a bitch!

Blade tried to grab Reidyn and pick him up to where he would be back on foot, but Reidyn broke the hold with a pair of balled fists and tried to jab at his now defenseless chest, just as Blade intercepted the hit and grabbed a hold of his fist. He spun to the side of him holding it, and delivered a heel kick to the gut of Reidyn, sending him aback towards the ground, close to the spot in the wall where Blade leveled him into just seconds ago this instant. Reidyn, of course, rebounded, for he always had a counter attack handy while in this rather prone position.

Reidyn, needless to say, lifted his head back up and tried to deliver a leg sweep to Blade as he came to him, which would've tripped him upon impact. Blade reacted timely quick to it, leaping over the hit. Blade appeared behind him as he delivered with an overhanded smash, which sent Reidyn on both knees upon impact, whereas Blade quickly appeared in front of him and held his chin against one knee, with the tip of his sword pointed towards the side of his head in this position. Reidyn had clearly lost this one. It was clear... lightning had not struck twice. Not today.

"Uh, uh-okay!" Reidyn stuttered to concede. "you beat me. You can release me now."

Blade quickly threw him back up from his defenseless position. Blade greeted him with a rather informative look on his face.

"Can't beat me without teleportin'," Blade inferred. "now can ya?"

"I just wanted to teach you," Reidyn presumed. "a new lesson to be learned. Do you wish to oblige?"

"It all goes accordin' to plan," Blade enticed. "now doesn't it?"

"Of course, Blade," Reidyn revealed. "You have mastered the art of telekinesis. Like it, teleportation interacts with the mind, but on a much more sophisticated level. In order to defeat Phenom, you must learn to master both, but I'm afraid doing so within a short amount of time will disrupt the mind's short term memory. Like the human body, it needs time to reimburse it's own functionality in order to remain stable. It is not to be overused."

"And just what exactly does that mean?" Blade prospered.

"It means we must call it a day," Reidyn imposed. "or night, whatever you want to call it. These methods I have taught you wear out the mind. Continue like this, and next thing you know, you won't even remember my name, let alone what I have taught you. Get some rest. You will find that it is your mind that needs it and not your body."

With those words in Blade's state of mind—like they haven't been there before—Blade decided to "hit the hay" once again. It had been a long night...

* * *

(Elsewhere...) 

An environment bagged entirely in thickets of darkness around every corner of every footstep awaited them down below, and it appeared to have been containing strange activity of some sort. One could only describe it as a reunion tour sealed purely in darkness...

"I'm sick of their world," Viktor, a humanoid vampire in a black leather shirt and jeans sneered. "Always trying to learn from the best."

"Demons, vampires, and death angels alike," Dark Disciple, the aforementioned one which invaded Blade's reams sought after. "...they're all the same to me."

"Yeah," Henrik, another humanoid bloodsucker wearing overalls and with a bottle of liquor in hand. "truly pathetic. That's what they are."

"You know, that's fuckin' ironic," Viktor cursed intentionally. "because they have a place on Earth and we don't."

"You should be thankful for that," Henrik encouraged. "without them, there would be no one else to kill."

"Maybe besides the one responsible for my initial death," the Death Disciple reassured them.

"Yes," Henrik somewhat agreed. "but the thing that compensates us from them is that the Mortals can't see us... you can't kill what you can't see."

"But what you can't see," the Death Disciple replied. "...can kill _you_."

TBC


End file.
